Spartan Reserve  riiiiight
by Snappy-Pants
Summary: Stelios and Astinos FTW! recollections and happenings of their past and present as schmexy Spartan warriors.  WARNING LIGHT BLOODPLAY AND BDSM


Title:

Author: Snappy Pants

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and that includes these characters.

Summary: Setlios and Astinos FTW!!! recollections and happenings of their past and present as schmexy Spartan warriors.

Ratings:

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE ANY OF THE FOLLOWING THINGS: hot sweaty man sex, cussing, bloodplay/ sadomasochism, sap, OOC

Note: so ever since I saw this movie I've been waiting for some sex-tastic slash, and NADDA! So I took matters into my own hands…

300

Stelios/Astinos

We met in the training yards of the agolge. I watched as he circled his opponent, a boy obviously older and more experienced than he was, but everyone watching could tell that Astinos would win. What he lacked in training he made up for in raw passion. I watched as he circled the other boy with his staff, a predatory look smeared across his effeminate features beneath the dirt and blood. His sparing partner got in a good hit and a black eye was already forming over the older bruises we all had spotting our faces. Hr circled, starved and muscled body crouched low, dirty loin clothe loose around his hips. The only sound the panting of his opponents breathe and the quiet murmur of spectators voices. But not mine. My eyes were riveted on that boy's form. As a warrior, his form was flawed, but as a man, as a warrior, he radiated his ferocity and passion, enough to make even me, a notoriously cocky and headstrong trainee, think twice before challenging him…

"MOVE OUT!"

We stand together in the front line, marching to the Hot Gates. I can feel Stelios beside me, radiating heat like he always does. I sneak glances at him in his Spartan uniform (1), and immediately wish that I hadn't. He is so fucking hot. The epitome of Spartan training and breeding, and what makes it even better is knowing what he looks like when I have him stretched out naked and slick, begging, all that Spartan reserve gone in the flick of a tongue. Suddenly I've lost interest in this march, this culmination of my training. Suddenly I want to throw him down on this wheat-covered hill and fuck him. Or maybe let him fuck me. We've done it before, right before the harvest when the wheat is at its longest. No one can see you, so long as you don't move around so much. We always made it a game. How much could the other take? And the loser would get us caught, caught and worse. It was a heady aphrodisiac, this threat of discovery. But now we march to war, to the meet the hordes of the god-king Xerxes. I wonder if we'll both survive.

I tear my eyes away from this beautiful sight to look at my father. Old and wrinkled, yet still as strong as he was in the height of his prime. The king's general and most trusted friend and advisor. I feel no resentment towards him for picking me, of all his many sons, to go on this suicide mission. On the contrary. Its and opportunity to prove myself to his critical warrior's eye, to prove my worth as his son and as a Spartan. I know I'm up to the task, but I wonder what it will cost me…

We've been camped for over an hour at the foot of this hill. The sun has gone down, most of the men are asleep. But not me. And not Astinos. I know he's not asleep, I can hear his rapid breathing a few yards away. I smirk, and casually get up and walk in the moonlight around the hill. He doesn't keep me waiting long, and suddenly I can feel a line of heat at my back before he wraps his arms around my waste and pulls me in tight, slowly taking us to the ground. I'm still smirking.

'What took you so long?'. A derisive snort. He knows I'm playing with him, and he likes it.

'We can't all walk as quietly as women, now can we my fellow Spartan?' He punctuates his teasing insult with a roll of his hips against my backside and a bite to the back of my neck, beneath my hair. This is his favorite place to mark me, and one of the few he can, given the revealing nature of our uniforms. I've often wondered if these uniforms were meant to keep us straight-laced in our sexual habits. Any marks left behind are clearly visible. So we are restricted to the backs of each other's necks, our wrists under the wide leather bands, and, of course, our asses. I smile at the thought as he growls, teeth still firmly planted in my neck. The bruises on my ass have just disappeared from the last time Astinos decided to play rough.

'Do you know what I was thinking, as we began our march this morning?' Astinos whispers huskily in my ear, punctuation it with a sharp snap of his hips against me. I'm going to have more bruises. 'Do you?'

My voice is breathy, 'no, no I don't know', unspoken is the begging, the please, please tease me and tell me what you were thinking. We're Spartans, after all, we never beg. I feel his lips curve up into a smile against the sensitive skin of my neck.

'I was thinking of how hot you would look, fucked on the blunt end of my spear, sweaty and moaning and naked as the enemy marched by, admiring my favorite possession.'

'Hnnn. Yes, please. Please, Astinos. Please fuck me.' I'm begging, he's going to punish me for it, but I can't help myself, and I don't care. I know that after the punishment he'll fuck me with that delicious image in our heads, of me impaled on his spear that has been slick countless times with blood, as he stands by, a possessive look in those dark eyes, and a smirk on his face, watching as the hordes paraded by my naked form. And he'll fuck me harder for it, which is what I really want. To be smashed into, to feel his battle rage bleed into his passion as my ass is bruised by the force of his hips snapping against it.

I twist around, brining my face up and forcing his up as well, as I lock my lips with his in that first kiss of the evening that's been so long in coming. I crave him. This taste of salt and sweat and something else. Something that I can never place. But whatever it is, I'm addicted to it, as surely as the sun rises and the moon wanes. I need this taste. His tongue wins the battle, as always, and it invades my mouth. The feel of that thick muscle stroking the inside of my mouth makes me moan as I suck is tongue further in, imagining it's his cock as the tip flicks along the roof of my mouth.

He breaks the first kiss, always in charge, always. We're both panting, staring heatedly at each other, as he slowly moves his mouth down to my shoulder, keeping his eyes locked with mine so I can see the heat and possessiveness as he bites gently. Not hard enough to leave a mark, but my eyes are rolling back in my head, dizzy with the sight before me. He shifts and rolls me over, pressing his hips to mine, rubbing slowly, gently, maddeningly. Stelios can go for hours like this, feasting on my body with this slow, thrusting rhythm, but he knows it drives me mad. He knows that once he starts, the only way to go is to fuck me, and fuck me soon. And that thought that he will fuck me, that he always fucks me after he does this, is the only thing that keeps me sane as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over my over-wrought brain. I'm breathing faster now as he nips his way down my collar bone, licking his way to tease my nipple. My back arches and I swallow a cry as he takes it in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen flesh, nibbling it, tasting it, driving me crazy.

My hands have come down to fist in his hair, holding on for dear life on this wild and best-of-all rides. My eyes are wide, staring straight up into the dark sky as he twists my other nipple with his callused fingers. A breathy plea escapes my lips.

'Please, Astinos. Please pleaseplease.' He looks up at me for a second, distracted from his works, and I recognize the look. It sends a shudder up and down my spine as I realized that this is to be my punishment. Comprehension dawns as he returns to his work, sliding down so his chest is pressed against my crotch and his tongue licks wet trails over my torso. The rocking of his hips is gone, to be replaced by the vibrations and pulsations of his breath and hammering heart. At least there is some consolation. I know that his heart is beating just as fast as mine as he tortures me.

His tongue swirls in my navel and I buck against him. He knows that's one of my sweet spots. I feel him grin against my skin as he nibbles the edge of my navel. I'm biting my hand to keep from screaming. I feel my teeth break the skin and a little taste of blood fills my mouth, only arousing me further. My other hand, still tangled in his hair, is flexed, pulling painfully tight against his scalp, but he only pulls against it more. These are more of our dark secrets, my love of blood and his love of pain. Spartan warriors, through and through. I know the pain will break him, will drive him to the edge where he can't stand to tease me anymore, has to fuck me. I pull harder, digging my nails into my palm as I feel another welcome trickle of blood.

I can feel him reacting to the pain, as his movements become faster, hurried, his moans lower and more frequent. I know I'm about to win this battle.

Suddenly he's gone, and I can feel his hands snatching the buckle from my leather and hastily loosening the straps, pulling the things off me. He kneels there, staring at my naked body, as he strips himself, all that heat and desire and some forbidden emotion radiating from his every cell (2).

Now that we both know he's about to fuck me, his movement suddenly slow down, become more tender, as he brings himself up, stretching his hands through my hair and staring into my eyes for a split second before claiming my swollen lips again in a leisurely kiss. I kiss back, putting everything I have into that kiss, everything. Even what can't be said. Especially what can't be said. He breaks away and kisses the corner of my mouth before gently turning me over, running one hand along my back and ass as his lips lock again on the back of my neck, gentle this time.

We stay there for a moment, frozen in the tenderness of the moment, soft expressions hidden behind the lust on our faces. We're both glad that the other can't see our face, unrequited something threatening our sanity.

Then he's pushing into me. No prelude, no nothing. Just rough and raw and exactly the way I like it, pounding into my flesh as I feel the thrill as old bruises resurface. I come up on all fours, helping him fuck me for a while, rocking back and forth, eyes squeezed shut at the intensity of the sensation. His hands are squeezing my hips. I love those finger shaped bruises, proof of what exactly it is we do, how we feel. Proof that I'm not dreaming of hallucinating, that this is really happening.

He reaches down and grabs my shoulder, pulling me up as he wraps his arms around my chest and squeezes my torso to his. I gasp at the new angle, as the head brushes against my inner walls harder now, rippling the muscle and tissue around it. I shudder in his arms as he fucks me, turning my head to the side for a kiss. Without a word, his lips latch onto mine and there we stay for a small eternity. Both kneeling, naked in the moonlight, fucking me as I thrust back against him, heads twisted together in a heated kiss. Just thinking about the picture we must make, makes me start to come.

I suck his tongue father into my mouth, sucking harder and harder as he fucks me harder and harder, getting close, so close to the edge. I squeeze my arms to his, wrapped around my chest, as my ass muscles constrict and spasm around him. Oh gods, its so good.

I break the kiss. 'Close. So close', I pant against his lips, barely able to catch my breath. He buries his head in my shoulder and growls in response, snapping his hips harder, squeezing his arms tighter until its all melded together in one frantic, sweaty rhythm.

I come first, I always do. He cheats. When I'm wrapped up in the feel of him in my ass, he sneaks a hand down to my own swollen cock and squeezes.

A sudden intake of breath, my head thrown back against his shoulder. I can feel all of my muscles tighten and spasm in orgasm as my toes curl and my back bows. And I feel him coming inside me and oh gods, could this be any better? We both jerk and try to stifle our cries and moans as the ground is painted with my come, and my ass with his.

Finally we relax into each other's arm, falling softly to the dusty ground bellow us. I am still wrapped up in his arms, both of us are still naked, I can feel his come starting to trickle out of my ass. And I don't care.

what do you call those leather man-bikinis?

ok I know they didn't know about cells, but gimme a break here


End file.
